Osculation
by Black Sword
Summary: Deep within the ancient Laya's domain, a contact between two at multiple points.
1. Chapter 1

The first thing Adan did after opening his eyes was check his surroundings for any _surprises_. He had endured enough of _those_ in the past two days to last him a lifetime. His quick visual inspection revealed nothing unusual, but he had had only the briefest of moments to inspect his room yesterday before his exhaustion had claimed him. He took little comfort in the fact that he realistically could not expect himself to spot anything but the most egregiously out of place items.

It had taken two days to reach the Kensai encampment in the blizzard, but it had taken Adan less than an hour to decide he would have preferred to continue alone. It started innocently enough, or so it seemed. The fur cloak their newly-acquired Kensai escort had shared with him was too small. It had taken less than fifty paces in his too-tight snowshoes to realize that Gwyn's cloak was far too big for her. His eyes met the blue eyes of the lavender-haired cause of his trouble.

Sumire, the leader of the war band Adan and his companions had bested and daughter of the Kensai _shousa_, seemed to be waiting for his reaction. Adan did nothing and said nothing, marching on in the snow, his cloak flowing freely about him in the wind. The chill bit into his flesh, but at the time, he had thought it worthwhile to demonstrate how utterly unaffected he was by her weak attempt at retaliation.

Perhaps, had he conceded that little bit of ground, the rest of the trip would have been less...just _less_. He had no idea how she did it, but the purple-haired minx created an impromptu series of traps, tricks, and pranks using nothing more than snow and ice that all succeeded in scoring their designated target: him.

And she _was _responsible: every time he fell into one of the traps or pranks, Sumire was right there, making sure he saw her before she went on ahead in what would have seemed innocence to the untrained eye. To a product of a royal court, it was so insincere it practically _screamed _guilt.

Adan looked out from under the warm layers of his fur blankets, studying his room. The Kensai _encampment _was a sophisticated warren of caves that were substantially warmer than the icy wastes of Frigidia. Judging from the climb up the mountain and the narrow entrance, it was eminently defensible; even should invaders break through, the confusing twists and turns within would allow the defenders to defeat the enemy in detail.

The room itself was simple. The pile of warm furs he had slept on was the bed, while a few shelves on the opposite end of the room held some books and other, more unfamiliar items. Highly-stylized drawings on the walls depicted scenes of battle and of the hunt. A couple of thick rugs and cushions on the floor that likely doubled for seats. Simple, utilitarian, without waste or frivolity.

Adan sat up as he continued to survey his surroundings. There wasn't much privacy from what he could tell. His room was separated from the corridor by a blanket that covered the entrance. Privacy here was more a state of mind than a reality.

A rustling sound at the entrance turned his head. He caught a glimpse of a pair of young girls, prepubescent at their oldest, peeking into his room. When they realized he was aware of their presence, they darted out of sight. Some things were the same everywhere. It was a strangely comforting thought.

A long silence ensued, interrupted only by the rustle of his doorway as the girls peeked in, saw he was still watching, then darted out of sight again. Adan smiled as he remembered his twin had done much the same when they were children. She _still _did it, though she would vociferously deny it if accused. "You can enter, if you like."

The area around his doorway palpably froze. Idly, Adan wondered how long it would take them to screw up their courage.

It was not a long wait. The two girls entered, their steps a bit abashed, and sat on the rugs, their heads down, their eyes darting quick peeks at his face. Rather like children caught doing something they were not supposed to be doing. Adan openly studied them. They were tall for their ages, with lean physiques that hinted at strong training regimens for ones so young. Their hair was done up in twintails, the hair gathered on either side of their heads by simple clips. Their maroon clothes appeared warm and comfortable, though not loose; no benefit in combat if your own clothes tripped you up. One of them had bright green hair, while the other's tresses wore an all too-familiar shade of lavender.

They fidgeted under his gaze. At length, the green haired one finally burst out, "The rumors are really true."

Adan eyed Green idly. "What rumors?"

Green traded a long look with Lavender. Before either of them could get up and escape, he caught both of their gazes. Command entered his eyes and his voice. "Tell me the rumor."

"That you're the most beautiful man in all of Frigidia," Lavender muttered.

He burst out laughing. It was the absolute last thing he expected, and he had no defenses against such a silly statement. It was absurd to call him "beautiful." His mother and sister certainly merited such a word, but Adan thought himself no more than fair when it came to looks. When he finally recovered, he smiled at the two girls so they understood he was not laughing at them. Strangely, the pair seemed to be holding their breath after he smiled at them.

Before he could ask them about it, a loud grumbling sound came from a stomach. Not his. Lavender turned pink as Green stared at her. "Are you hungry?" Lavender asked, embarrassed.

"Yes."

Lavender shot up to her feet so quickly that Adan instinctively tensed for battle, but she only paused to grab Green's arm and run off. Shaking his head, Adan doffed his blankets and inspected the clothes set aside for him. They were sturdy, comfortable clothes that seemed likely to fit him and to keep him warm in the chill of Frigidia. The only problem was that they were _white_.

It was irrational, but Adan thoroughly disliked the color white. That he wore it at all was his way of showing his respect for his aunt, the great Laya of legend. Similarly, he wore black to honor Orakio, his ancestor from a thousand years ago, and Laya's great enemy.

Laya of white and red, Orakio of black and gold. In the thousand years since his two kin had warred against each other, their signet colors had taken on different meanings to their followers. White was the color of mourning for Orakians, while black served that purpose for Layans. Orakians never wore red, while Layans similarly avoided gold. It was a strange taboo, its origins lost to history.

He smiled as he shrugged into the thick, warm clothes the Kensai had given him. His mother and his sister always wore red, as it was the color of the Laya. It gave the Orakian nobles apoplexy at every court function, something he personally thought the majority of them deserved. Unlike his subjects, however, Adan liked women in red. It was his favorite color. He absentmindedly wondered how Kara would look in red.

Even as he donned the white cloak that bore Orakio's sunburst, someone cleared their throat at his doorway. "Enter."

The two girls entered, their hands carrying trays of food sufficient for three people. Adan supposed they wanted to eat with him, and saw no reason to object. He sat cross-legged on one of the rugs. The two girls took rugs opposite him and began to eat. Breakfast consisted of various grasses, tubers, roots, stems, and berries sharing space with what seemed to be boiled meat and raw, frozen liver. Adan chewed his food thoughtfully, making sure to include bites of tubers or berries every time he gnawed on the meat or liver. It wasn't necessarily the most delicious meal he'd ever had, but it filled his stomach.

They ate in silence for a while, the girls still peeking at him when they thought he was not paying attention to them. Adan abruptly broke the silence. "Does it matter? That you seem to think I'm 'beautiful.'" Him, beautiful? Patently silly.

The two girls looked at him in shock, then turned their disbelieving gazes on each other. You'd have thought he had asked if water was wet.

"Well, if you're beautiful, then it means that it's very likely you'll have beautiful babies," Lavender said, as if she were explaining the sky was blue.

"That is relevant because...?"

Once again, they shared that look. The light of comprehension suddenly lit Green's eyes. "Ah! He doesn't know our ways!"

"Don't be silly, how couldn't he?" Lavender replied hotly.

Adan interrupted them before they could truly get at it. "I suppose you can explain, Green?"

Green looked at him in surprise. "My name isn't Green!"

"It is considered courtesy among warriors to share their name with a guest," Adan said gently. It was an indirect rebuke for their bad manners, but the reminder did its job. The two looked ashamed and avoided looking at him.

"My name is Bachiko," Green said, glancing at Lavender for support.

"I'm Amaya," Lavender said, avoiding Bachiko's look.

"My name is Adan Sa Riik," Adan said pleasantly, finishing the courtesies. "Now, Bachiko, you were saying?"

The green-haired girl nodded. "For Kensai, strength is not enough. We must live up to our swords in every way, from birth to death. Our weapons are beautiful death bringers, and so we too must be beautiful and deadly. Very often, beautiful men and beautiful women have beautiful children, so it is best that we catch the most handsome men, so that we may have the most beautiful daughters to inherit the future."

It was very interesting, and it _did _make a strange sort of sense. Many sword arts required that wielder and weapon become one, and it was possible that if the wielder thought of themselves as beautiful, they might be better able to turn their weapon into an extension of their bodies. Adan wondered what Kara would make of the curious tidbit.

"Are you really the son of Laya?" Amaya asked suddenly.

"I am."

"Then that means you're equal to mother..." the girl murmured, her tone distinctly fascinated.

Adan snorted. Among any other Layan people, he would be one massive step above the local authority, and one tiny step below his demigoddess mother. Amongst the feminist Kensai, he was 'equal' to the _shousa_, their overlord.

"My mother would likely disagree that your mother is equal to me," he commented dryly.

The girl's pale blue eyes widened as her face paled a bit, but her compatriot paid her no mind as Bachiko asked, "You've really been to Elysium? Is it really true that it never snows there? The _shousa _said that, but I can't believe there's a world where it doesn't snow!"

It was the first in an onslaught of questions that Adan answered. Their innocence amused him, but he kept that emotion hidden. It was interesting to see what they believed and what they did not. They ate up his descriptions of Dahlia, fascinated by an artificial moon of metal and filled with people, but they refused to believe his descriptions of Elysium as a world of endless summer, or of Orakio's Keep and the size of Landen City. They were mesmerized by his description of his mother Laya, yet protested as impossible his labeling his father a great warrior, since they insisted men could not be as strong on the battlefield as women.

"I see you acquired a pair of Chirpers as well," his twin's amused voice came from the doorway.

He looked up as his pair of Chirpers glanced in the same direction and bowed their foreheads to the ground. Adan shook his head as he saw Gwyn, similarly garbed in warm white clothes, her black sash with Orakio's sunburst looped over her shoulder. Without a second thought, he stood up and took it off her.

"Hey! That's mine!"

"Only when we're in a warmer dome."

His sister glared as she tried to snatch her sash out of his grip, his hand dangling it just out of her reach. "That's absurd! That's always been my sash!"

"And black has always been my color. Until we're out of Frigidia, I'm wearing this."

Gwyn sputtered in indignation as she kept hopping around to take back her sash. Gwyn's Chirpers, redhead and blonde, similarly garbed as his own, were staring at them as if they had lost their minds. His pair looked similarly concerned.

"Oh, I'm going to get you for this, Adan," his twin threatened when she finally gave up, her arms crossed in a sulk.

"Remember that time you ruined your dress and I had to lend you my cloak for the rest of the night so no one would notice? Call it even."

She stared. "Are you really calling that in? That was years ago! We were _ten_."

"I'm calling it in," Adan said serenely as he looped the black sash around himself in the same way Gwyn did.

"Oooooooh," his twin fumed. "Come on! The _shousa _wants to talk to us."

Adan eyed their Chirpers. "Lead us to the _shousa_," he told them.

The girls jumped at his tone and obeyed before they thought to question why they should obey a man's orders. They led the way through the many twists and turns of the encampment, past many doorways similar to his own, and others where the sounds of industry, machinery, and other work was done. The rock was carved high enough and wide enough that claustrophobia was banished. All the walls bore drawings similar to the ones in his room, with each wall telling a different story, of great hunts and battles, of many different kinds of tales. At one point, Adan recognized a crude depiction of a combat robot and guessed it described a battle at least a thousand years in the past. It would be impossible for him to find his way back on his own, but his Chirpers would likely be happy to guide him and Kara to the spot. He was certain she could tell him more about it. He enjoyed learning new things from Kara, and her thoughtful explanations were always fun to listen to.

They finally arrived in a large chamber crowded with people. At its center was an elevated dais with a large wooden throne, intricately carved with women in flowing robes supporting the handrests and back. Adan spotted Kara before the dais, a pair of her own Chirpers right behind her. Before the smile tugging at his lips could be born, it vanished. Even as Gwyn donned the royal mask of a demigoddess, he donned his own.

The woman seated on the throne was the fully-bloomed flower to Sumire's bud and Amaya's shoot. Of an age with his mother, the _shousa _was as beautiful as Kara, with a long mane of unbound lavender hair and clear blue eyes that missed nothing. At her feet sat her daughter Sumire, a very pretty girl, even if she glared at him with sharp blue eyes that tried to drill through his skull. Like her sister, she wore maroon and had her hair done in twintails.

"I greet you, _alteza _Gwyn Sa Riik, _alteza _Adan Sa Riik, children of Laya. I greet you, Kara Kay Eshyr, daughter of Lune," the _shousa _said as she stood. "I am Miyu, _shousa _of the Kensai and chieftain of the Falling Snow Tribe."

"We greet you in the name of our parents, King Nial Sa Riik and Queen Laya of Landen, and Lune Kay Eshyr of Dahlia," Adan replied, as formal as she. "We thank you in our own names for your hospitality and generosity."

The _shousa_ smiled at him. "You are very aloof, _alteza _Adan. Even standing in front of you, I can sense your pride and nothing else. Is it a trait of your mother?" Her smile shifted from him to Gwyn. "You, _alteza _Gwyn, can be naught but your father's daughter. I heard your laughter earlier this morning, and could not help but hear your father's joy in it."

Adan traded a look with his twin, uncertain if the formalities were dispensed with. Gwyn shrugged ever so slightly before she looked at the _shousa_. "My mother says I inherited my father's sense of humor. She says Adan inherited her sister's pride."

The _shousa _froze for a full heartbeat before she nodded slowly. "I see. It is good that some part of the great Laya is here in this day and age." She sat and eyed them curiously. "But why have the children of Laya come to Frigidia? With the daughter of Lune, no less?"

"We seek answers to the event that shook our world," Gwyn answered, carefully avoiding all mention of the black hole the _Alisa III_ was heading towards. "As our mother found the answers to peace in Frigidia, we too seek our answers here."

The _shousa _nodded. "That is a wise decision. There is much lost knowledge in the great Laya's domain. Will you be heading to Mystoke?"

Adan nodded. "Yes, that is our goal. We hope that Mystoke holds clues to the answer."

A brief silence followed. "May I offer you a suggestion, _alteza _Gwyn, _alteza _Adan?"

It was unexpectedly deferential. Adan replied, "We would be glad to receive any wisdom from you, _shousa_. Your knowledge of Laya's land is far greater than our own."

"I believe your interests are better served in New Mota than in Mystoke. The Historian Village holds a great deal of knowledge, some of it as old as Laya's Great War. Skyhaven holds even more, so they say."

He traded another look with his twin. "Skyhaven?" Gwyn asked.

"A city that floats in the sky," the _shousa _replied. "It can only be reached by machines that fly. You have a Wren. I remember Ryan once said that it was capable of transformation. Perhaps it can fly to Skyhaven?"

"He is capable of doing so," Adan responded. The only reason they had not flown to Mystoke was the damnable storm would have ended up crashing Wren. "We thank you for this gift of knowledge, _shousa_. We shall make our destination New Mota."

"I would be happy to provide you with guides," the _shousa_ said. "They can take you to a nearby place of ancient technology. Perhaps you will be able to transform him there?"

"Your generosity is great, _shousa_," Gwyn replied. "We thank you from the bottom of our hearts."

"May I ask something of you?"

He was impressed. It was very rare that he needed to exchange looks with his twin more than twice in any setting. "If it is within our power, we are glad to give it," Adan said cautiously.

"May I see you fight, _alteza _Adan?"

It was the last thing he expected her to ask. She wanted to see him _fight_?

"I only ask because I once dueled your father. The only loss I ever suffered. You carry your sword with the natural bearing of a swordsman, so it is only natural that I would like to see your strength."

Adan inclined his head fractionally. "Then I shall display my skill. Do you have an opponent in mind?"

"I will be your opponent!"

That Sumire would choose to face him, however, did not surprise him one bit.


	2. Chapter 2

His sword spun in his hand as Adan tested it. Forged from low-grade laconia, the rarest and greatest of all metals, it was a family heirloom of Satera. The blade bore a slight curve before it tapered at the end to stab. Its edge never dulled and was enough to cut through the most resilient chitin armor and steel plate. It lacked a guard, leaving it as a weapon only with the blade and the grip. If you did not pay attention, the sword was just as willing to cut you as it was willing to cut your enemy.

It had a name. It was the enemy of its master's foes, but no ally to its master. It only made sense that some long ago Sateran king had named the weapon Friendless. Adan could well sympathize with his weapon's plight. It made them two of a kind.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Gwyn asked as she hovered near his shoulder. "You really don't have to, you know."

"I've already accepted," Adan responded patiently, Friendless dancing through his fingers as he twirled the hilt. It was all the explanation that was necessary.

"Yes, but…" Kara began uncertainly, hovering by his other shoulder.

"I've already accepted," he repeated firmly before he sheathed his sword and walked away from them. He heard Gwyn tell Kara in a very cross voice, "_This_ is what I mean! He's so…_ugh_!"

He lost Kara's response in the murmurs of the crowd. Word had spread throughout the Falling Snow tribe, and people were coming from everywhere to witness his bout with the Kensai princess. The encampment's grand chamber was filling up with every tribe member who could make an excuse to escape their tasks and very likely a few who couldn't but had come anyway. Adan took the opportunity to observe his strange hosts. He saw men armed with bows, a traditionally Layan female weapon, sporting thick fur caps with ear flaps that looked liked they could be tied at the chin mingling with Kensai women dressed in pale blues and whites that would easily conceal them in plain sight in Frigidia's frozen wastes.

The women wore their swords at the hip. Kensai swords were curved, slender, single-edged blades with a cross-shaped guard and a long grip to accommodate two hands. Some of them wore their armor, blue-hued plate that offered good protection for the torso. The younger women wore maroon, so Adan supposed they were trainees as opposed to full-fledged warriors. That still left the twintails without an explanation, but at least it made them look cuter.

Not that the Kensai women needed help with their looks. As his Chirpers had explained, they were indeed as beautiful as their weapons, though he reserved judgment on how deadly they were. The men were consistent with the quality of the good looks of the women, but Adan paused when he caught sight of a particularly ugly male near the front, a pretty green-haired woman stroking his hair. The man _had_ to offer an unusually strong trait in order for one of the Kensai to risk her offspring's beauty on _his_ genes.

A space had opened up around the _shousa_'s throne. It was a circular area around ten meters in diameter, large enough for freedom of movement in his upcoming match, and for plenty of spectators to observe the show. Adan folded his arms and watched as Sumire held her sword firmly in her left hand, her eyes sapphire daggers trying to break through his skull. If the girl did not consistently look like she was chewing nails even as her sharp eyes tried to stare him down, Adan would have called her one of the prettiest Kensai. As it was, her sour face left her merely average.

"_Alteza_ Adan, I ask that you fight," the _shousa_ said respectfully, seated on the ground where her daughter had been a short time before rather than on her throne, her younger daughter Amaya at her side.

Adan inclined his head in the Kensai overlord's direction, acknowledging his acquiescence to her request. Unsurprisingly, Sumire attacked in that short opening, her intent to kill about as subtle as a charging Gnasher. Without even drawing his sword, Adan dodged her attack, shifting away from her so he would have room to respond. Whatever Gwyn's worries, Adan did not fear defeat. For one, he would never allow anyone to beat him. For another, he was the inheritor of Orakio's secret sword art, the strongest blade techniques on the _Alisa III_.

Sumire advanced on the balls of her feet, her body ready to shift weight and stance on the heartbeat. Adan watched as she shifted her left hand to the bottom of the hilt, her right positioned near the tip of the sword, pointed at him. Her right foot led, right beneath her right hand, her left foot positioned similarly under her left hand. He shifted subtly, putting his right hand on his sword even as his left held the sheath.

The Kensai princess leaned back, then suddenly pushed forward with her right foot, launching a fast charge toward him. She suddenly thrust her weapon, aimed at his torso. He dodged in the nick of time, only to realize his mistake as Sumire twisted her blade's edge toward him before she launched a powerful horizontal slash.

The sharp ring of blade against blade filled the air as Adan drew enough of his sword in time to block her attack. As he expected, Sumire's slender frame concealed wiry muscles that made her far stronger than she appeared. But brute force to brute force, she was no match for him.

Before he could take advantage of that, Sumire pulled back her blade a bit, reducing the pressure against him just before he would have leveraged his greater strength. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of her right hand closed into a fist, aimed right at his ribs. Had he been applying the pressure he meant to, he would have overbalanced, becoming easy prey to what was obviously the girl's favorite attack, and that would have likely cost him the fight. As it was, he jumped back, barely avoiding her attack. Sumire's glare tried to drill through his eyes even as his opponent once more adopted her technique's stance.

The Orakian prince finished drawing his sword, eyes intent on the Kensai princess. Adan thought he had an adequate grasp on the mechanics of her move, but he would have to brave it once more to be certain he had an opening to attack.

Sumire dashed forward, her weapon steady as she thrust. Adan lashed out, the ring of weapon contact quickly displaced by the sliding noise of metal against metal as they closed on each other. Sumire quickly shifted her weight even as her weapon changed into the horizontal slash, pushing against him enough that momentum forced him back a step. It was enough of a break for her to withdraw, once again settling back into her technique stance.

Adan studied her. His ancestor's secret sword art was called "Moon Dance," and possessed many powerful techniques that could address virtually any situation. He sheathed his sword once again, this time adopting the formal sword draw stance, his right foot placed in front of his left, the blade of the sheathed Friendless against the curve of the sheath. Sumire's technique was powerful, but not as powerful as the Sa Riik sword art.

Once again, his opponent committed to her attack. Adan dodged, shifting his body into a spin even as he casually deflected Sumire's powerful follow-up. He sensed more than saw movement. Rather than the dull thud from the pommel of his sword striking the back of Sumire's head, he heard the clear ring of metal clashing. He instinctively dodged to his left, neatly evading a sword strike aimed at his back.

Two of Sumire's cronies had come to her aid. Adan did not bother glancing at the _shousa_ to question the changed circumstances, as none of the onlookers had protested. Well, almost none.

"Three against one isn't fair," Kara said loudly and angrily. While he couldn't see the moon princess, for whatever strange reason, he had the distinct impression she was being held back from joining the fray.

"You're right. Three against one isn't fair," Gwyn replied calmly. "For _them_."

His twin was more or less right. _Musubi _was taught to Layan archers and slicers. It was a state of mind where everything became one, the weapon, the warrior… and the targets. Once he attacked, the action and result became one, uniting the past and the future at the same point. Ever since she had taught him the trick of _musubi_, he had become one of the strongest swordsmen in Landen, but only one of the strongest. He considered flattery any claims he was a swordmaster, let alone prattle that said he was better than his father.

The three encircled him, forming a lethal triangle with him at its center. In a single flowing motion, he sheathed his sword, eyes tracking his opponents, daring them to strike in the deliberate opening he had given them. Their failure to do so would cost them dearly.

He charged Sumire, his hands on Friendless, ready to draw. Even as her cronies broke their positions to close with him, he changed his charge midstep and turned on the other two. The surprise broke their concentration. Even as they moved to react, they knew they were too late.

His target tried to bring her sword down on his head, but Friendless blocked the strike even as his left hand hit her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. A rough shove sent her back several steps, enough room for him to block her compatriot's attack. Caught in a blade lock, he used his strength to break free of it, startling her enough that he took the risk of closing in to point blank range to strike her between the eyes with his pommel. Those eyes rolled up into her head before she collapsed. A hard kick in the ribs left his first opponent prone.

The skirmish had taken heartbeats. Sumire had finally closed in. When their gazes met, the sharpness of her eyes was obscured by her shock as she took in her defeated comrades. She took up her technique's stance, her movements betraying uncertainty. Aware that her cronies were stirring, already recovering from his assault, he sheathed Friendless and assumed sword drawing stance, his eyebrow raised in mocking challenge.

The Kensai princess glared before she launched, her strike as true as before. Adan evaded it once again, his body turning even as he parried her follow-up slash. This time, there was no interference as his pommel struck the back of Sumire's neck, dropping her to the ground.

"The match is done," the _shousa_ announced. "The winner is _alteza_ Adan."

There was no applause from the crowd, but Adan heard the appreciative tone in the murmurs. He eyed Sumire's body as she rubbed the back of her head, wondering if he should just keep her there. "Was there a point to that?" he asked, inclining his head at one of Sumire's cronies.

The _shousa_ inclined her head in an apology. "They are her swordbearers. Their task is to protect her and help her. It is unusual for them to intervene in a match such as this, but not against custom."

He snorted softly. He had a thought or two about that, but it would be rude to say it aloud.

"They're doing a poor job of protecting her." Of course, rudeness only rarely stopped his twin from speaking her mind. Kara and Gwyn had joined him, Kara's eyes wide as saucers as she stared at him. He smiled at her, strangely pleased that he had surprised her.

"I am certain my daughter's head agrees," the _shousa_ replied a little dryly.

The Kensai princess was on her feet, her eyes lowered, not looking at anyone. Her mother regarded her fondly before she said, "Your eyes are not lowered, Sumire. It would be unfair to expect you to beat one in whose veins flow the blood of gods."

Sumire took a deep breath before she turned to face him. Those sharp blue eyes never left his face as the lavender-haired princess declared, "I want this man as my mate!"


	3. Chapter 3

Even through the thick fur cloak and the heavy layers, the stiff set of the shoulders was unmistakable. It was not even necessary to see the rest of her to know that her arms were crossed and her head was held high as she strode through the snow ahead of him. Adan sighed at how much that hostile stance reminded him of an offended cat. He had never once suspected that of all the people on the _Alisa III_, _Kara_ would be upset with him.

He wished he could pretend he didn't know why. Well, to be exact, he didn't know _why_ she was angry with him, but he knew _when_ she had gotten upset with him. It had been right after he had won his duel with Sumire that he discovered that within the gentle, sweet, formidably intelligent Kara was also an incomprehensible and unpredictable tigress.

The worst part was the not knowing. Every time he had approached Kara to try to figure it out, she had given him the cold shoulder. When he tried to ask what he had done, she sometimes dignified to answer him with a sharp "You know what you did!"

_If I knew why you were mad, I'd know how to make you smile again_, he grumped silently. He would almost rather Gwyn were the one angry with him. He had a lifetime of experience dealing with her temper, but Kara was a new sea with uncharted coasts. Once again, he tried to figure out exactly why she was angry. He knew more or less where to start.

"I want this man as my mate!"

Sumire's intense declaration brought silence to the entire chamber. Everyone stared at the lavender-haired princess in shock. Out of the corner of his eye, Adan saw the _shousa_ gaze at her daughter with a pained look on her face, but he had greater concerns.

"Your pardon?" he asked blankly.

"You're the strongest and most beautiful man in the entire world," she replied bluntly. "I want you to father my children."

He hadn't even _kissed_ yet, and this girl wanted him to father her children? "I refuse."

The audience began to murmur, the buzz of speculation an unpleasant background sound. Sumire's eyes had lost some of their sharp edge, but there was a possessiveness in them that Adan did not care for. Before he could say anything else, the _shousa_ interjected. "Sumire, you did not conquer him. You cannot make him your mate."

"And you're never going to be strong enough to beat him one-on-one, so knock it off," Gwyn added. Adan eyed his twin and quietly asked himself for the thousandth time where Gwyn could have inherited her sharp tongue. He contented himself with coolly staring down his nose at the Kensai princess.

The girl's eyes adopted a cunning gleam. "There's more than one way to conquer a man," she replied slyly. "Besides, I've already made my claim! I just have to seal it."

"Adan is _mine_."

The source of the angry growl startled Adan as much as the statement did. Kara strode forward, placing herself between himself and Sumire, her eyes chips of light blue ice as they clashed with the Kensai princess' glare. Her cheeks were a deep crimson, but she held herself proudly, her hands on her hips, ready to pick up her slicers and use them in close combat. He glanced at his sister, but found Gwyn to be staring at the moon princess with open-mouthed astonishment. No help there.

Before he could say anything, Sumire sneered at Kara, obviously dismissing her as a threat. "I don't see your claim anywhere on him, daughter of Lune! I spoke first!"

"I've known him since I was seven! My claim precedes yours!" Kara responded hotly.

Adan held onto his composure, but only just. He could not believe his ears. Was _Kara_ really fighting over him? He had to be dreaming this combative Kara, so at odds with the scholar whose company he enjoyed.

"She's right, you know," Gwyn suddenly said, her voice so casual that her words came as a hammer to the back of his skull. "Her claim is much older than yours. In fact, I'm more inclined to approve Kara's claim."

"I never saw her claim on him!" Sumire protested angrily. "In two days, I saw nothing!"

Kara turned her eyes to the _shousa_, the scholar temporarily overruling the fighter. "I feel like we're talking circles around each other. What does she mean by 'claim,' _shousa_?"

The _shousa_ shook her head, keeping her silence. Adan shot his Chirper an irritated look. The girl looked at him, perplexed, before she understood. Shaking her head in dismay at what to her was ignorance, Amaya spoke up. "A Kensai's claim to a man is demonstrated through physical affection in front of others. Petting, stroking, kissing, se—"

Amaya's mother quite calmly put her hand over her child's mouth, interrupting her. "So it is."

The moon princess folded her arms, her expression complex, her complexion bright red. Adan thought it best to speak up. "I don't think it's necessary to—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Kara turned toward him, stepped in close, put her hands behind his neck, and brought his head down. He did not have any time to object, let alone prepare, before Kara had captured his lips with hers.

His mind shut down. The sweet scent of _fresa_ filled his nose, erasing the other smells in the Kensai warren as if they never were. His eyes were filled with Kara's beauty, though her eyelids denied him the sight of those familiar, glittering blue orbs. The feel of her delicate hands vanished as her sweet, soft lips sparked fire deep within him. He forgot to breathe as his body vanished in his perception, replaced with increased awareness of Kara's figure as his arms wrapped themselves around her hips.

The kiss ended too soon, as Kara stepped out of his arms with what seemed a smile. Her eyes, however, were confusing, with conflicting emotions jumping into them faster than he could track. "I know you're not fond of public displays of affection, my prince, but I thought it a better way to end any discussion."

Her tone seemed warm, but Adan still heard the warning not to disagree. Kara turned to Sumire, who was glaring at the moon princess with undisguised rage and… was it _jealousy_? "Adan is _mine_. I hope we're clear on that."

With that, Kara had swept out of the chamber, a princess having laid down the law. Gwyn left right behind her, her face a mask.

The two days while the storm cleared had been… _unpleasant_. Kara's temperament had been quicksilver, either chilly ice or snapping fire. Gwyn had been inscrutable, taking Kara Orakio alone knew where for Laya alone knew what purpose, Mieu in tow. The sparks when Kara and Sumire were in the same place at the same time were palpable.

What was worse was the tangle his thoughts had become. Did Kara like him? Did he like Kara? She had refused to discuss the matter with him. Every time he tried to convince himself that Kara had simply taken action to prevent a touchy situation with the Kensai and that she was only a childhood friend failed the instant he recalled the soft touch of her lips against his, the intoxication of her scent, the passion in her kiss.

Was he in love? Did Kara love him? What did that kiss mean to Kara? It had been his first kiss. Was it hers? And why was she so angry at him in the first place?

At long last, the weather had cleared up, giving Adan the freedom of action as opposed to the painful thoughts of inaction. The _shousa_ had wanted to fete them, but Adan had managed to convince the Kensai overlord that their mission was of pressing importance and could not wait. He was forced to agree that the successful conclusion of their mission would be an acceptable time for a fete, and that they would return then, if Laya permitted. He feverishly hoped that Laya would _not_ permit.

Adan glanced at his escorts. He did not for a moment believe that Sumire's war band _happened_ to be the one available to go out, and quietly suspected the Kensai princess had actively connived for the task. The tension between the moon princess and the lavender-haired Kensai girl grew worse the longer the two were near each other. Every time he sensed Sumire near him, he could also feel Kara's glare. It was like walking a path of daggers barefoot.

"Prince Adan," Wren called.

"Yes, Wren?"

"I have detected a power source nearby. My readings match the standard emission pattern of an airstrip."

Salvation was in sight. All Wren had to do was hook himself up to the transformation gear and a small craft capable of flight would be ready for them to use. Wren would fly, while the rest of the party would be obliged to pack themselves in cheek by jowl into the small cargo hold.

"So you leave."

Adan turned to confront his nemesis. The Kensai princess eyed him, her lavender bangs framing her face in a way that brought out the beauty instead of the blade. While he had no wish to linger in the cold, courtesy forced him to at least take his leave. "I do."

"Do you plan to return?"

"If Laya permits," he replied smoothly.

Her raised eyebrow told him quite handily that she had heard his unspoken prayer. Her blue eyes looked behind him, sharpening to a deadly edge. He did not need to look behind him to know that Kara had noticed he was talking to the Kensai princess. Adan felt like he was walking across a high wire with death right behind him.

"I think I should like to see more of the other worlds," Sumire said abruptly.

The sudden comment did little to reassure Adan. "Why?"

The Kensai princess looked coy. "Perhaps I want more than to be the _shousa_ of the Kensai."

"The land of Cille has been abandoned for many years. Perhaps you can rule _there_ as queen," he replied firmly. The last thing he wanted was for the lavender-haired girl to show up on his door step in Landen. He suspected if such a thing happened, Kara would violate Laya's Law.

"Or perhaps I'd rather a greater land," the Kensai princess replied. He saw her smirk at him, and for the second time, he was caught by surprise as a blue-eyed woman closed in with him and kissed him.

It was rough, with none of the gentleness or sweetness in Kara's kiss. It was amazing how two kisses could be so different. Kara's kiss was _fresa_ and moon shadows, something of velvet and passion. Sumire's was hard and fierce, ambition and desire.

The Kensai princess broke the kiss, wearing a triumphant look. Adan did not dare look behind him. Instead, he spoke loudly enough for Kara to hear. "I'm fairly certain Kara has already established a claim on me."

Sumire smirked. "She has a claim only as long as she's strong enough to keep it."

The lavender-haired girl's war band laughed as they applauded their leader's boldness. Adan said nothing as he turned his back on the girl… and was caught in Kara's gaze. The moon princess' expression was a mixture of anger and hurt that stabbed deep inside him. Before he could reach out to her, Kara turned and hurried off.

He had to think of a way to make it up to her. He had to think of a way to make her smile. The last thing he wanted for Kara was for her to weep.


End file.
